


Chlorine In Your Eyes

by red_crate



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, First Kiss, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-02 12:35:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19441591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/red_crate/pseuds/red_crate
Summary: Billy can’t let Steve hang out here without doingsomethingabout it.





	Chlorine In Your Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting in my docs for a long time, but I couldn’t ever figure out how to end it. But I've been thinking about Billy a lot lately (lol) and things took an angsty turn. I hope you’re into that sort of thing. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

“Bombs away, bitches!” 

Billy looks up in time to see the splash of water explode from the deep end of the pool. He narrows his eyes, exhales sharply. “Damn it.” 

He scans the crowd, looking for David, the guy in charge of the community center. Dude’s a hard ass about the rule against diving. David’s probably in the office though. Nowhere in sight, so Billy loosens his grip on the armrests. 

The squeals and laughter following the splash draw his attention and irritation so he slides down off his chair to stalk towards the gaggle of middle schoolers.

“Hey.” He omits the “ _ assholes _ ” because there are a couple SAHMs lounging nearby while their little terrors play Marco Polo in the shallow end. 

Billy cuts his eyes from the group of kids down to the one with the fucked up mouth, Dustin, who’s treading water nearby and giving Billy the smuggest damn smirk he’s ever seen on a kid. He can practically feel the amusement rolling off him. 

Billy juts his chin out and asks, “Can’t you losers read?” 

“Oh, sorry, man, I didn’t see the sign.” Dustin answers with sigh. The fucker turns into his back and floats. When Billy looks back at the shit heads, they’re biting back smiles like Dustin was even  _ funny _ . 

“No  _ diving. _ No running. No glass.” Billy grinds out the rules. “You get one warning. And you just got it.” 

Mike nods his head, kind of twitching a little with nerves. He says,”Yeah, okay.  _ Sorry _ .” And that’s full of sarcasm. 

“You  _ will be _ ,” Billy promises with a hard look. 

“Sup?” A new voice chimes in, the person walking up behind Billy. “There a problem?”

“Keep your brats on a leash,” Billy growls, not bothering to turn and look at Steve. 

The other boy lazily walks around Billy, then stops in front of him with a hand hooked on his hip. His expression is fully annoyed. Billy can see his distorted reflection in the black sunglasses hiding Steve’s eyes. 

He shouldn’t even be here. He doesn’t live in the neighborhood,  _ and _ he’s got a pool all to himself at his house. Those preppy shorts—cut short and slim, exposing practically  _ all  _ of his thighs—don’t belong here either. They’re pastel striped  _ atrocities _ and some throw back to the nineties, before they were even  _ born _ . 

Billy looks back up after a second too long, recovering. “What are you  _ doing  _ here?”

Steve pushes his sunglasses up until they sit on his head. He makes a production of looking around them and slinging a beach towel over his shoulder. “Shit, this isn’t the pool? Where people swim?” 

Billy wants to deck him and his stupid, mean little smile. “Not where  _ you _ swim. You don’t live here.”

There are _ rules _ , even if no one follows them or even really cares. He doesn’t get paid enough to try enforcing them all. As long as no one dies or bleeds all over the place on his watch, he’s happy. But he  _ can  _ use those rules to get his way when he wants. He’s got  _ authority  _ here. 

Steve scoffs. “Half the people here don’t live in the neighborhood.”

Billy grabs for Steve’s arm, fingers wrapping around his forearm and squeezing just enough. “Yeah, no guest bracelet, huh?” He tsks, turning Steve’s arm over like  _ maybe _ it could be hidden. When Steve tries to pull free, he resists for a split second, fingers bumping over the jut of bone on the outside of his wrist. 

“None of us do,” Dustin hauls himself out of the water, angry at the hold up. “Chill out, man.”

Steve nods and the other kids kind of circle in behind him, facing off. The urge to throw fists simmers beneath the surface, but Billy  _ needs _ this job. It pays good for, essentially, just sitting around and working on his tan while he checks out hotties. 

“That’s  _ right _ . None of you have guest bracelets. And Wheeler here is the only one with any right,” He rolls his eyes, “To be here. Which means I can kick all your asses out of my pool.” 

Will seems to go white at that, and Mike is saying “No, no, no! I have the bracelets! At home! I swear!” 

Billy’s not paying attention though, because he doesn’t really care about the bracelets or the rules. He just knows he can’t let Steve  _ hang out _ here without doing  _ something _ about it. 

“Why are you even here? Don’t you have a pool at your house?” He sneers, but is still kinda surprised when his soft ball insult is received with a flinch. He watches Steve recover though, so he says, “Or do you need someone to make sure you don’t  _ drown _ all by yourself?” 

“You’re just a glorified babysitter!” Dustin shouts, shouldering up next to Steve, water dripping on Steve’s feet. “So shut up and do your job.”

Billy almost loses it right there, but he’s been working on his anger and shit, right? So he breathes through it, watching Steve put a calming hand on his little munchkin like that brat is who needs to be  _ calmed down _ . “One more thing. Say  _ one more thing _ , and I’m banning you and all these little shits from the pool. Even you, Wheeler.” 

Dustin opens his mouth, because clearly the kid has a death wish. But then Mike is slapping his hand over it and talking over the muffled yelling. “It’s cool. It’s cool. I’m sorry. I’ll remember the bracelets next time!” 

“Look, there’s no reason to be a dick. You’re working, and we just want to chill. No reason we can’t all exist in the same area without trying to kill each other.” Steve moves his towel around his shoulder until he’s gripping both ends, relaxed. “Right?” He smiles, that winning one Billy knows he uses to get his way. As if that shit actually works on him. 

But Billy does have to keep this job, and he knows enough about Mrs. Wheeler to know she would kick up a fuss with David about her son being banned. It’s not really worth the headache. So he says, “Just don’t drown. I might be legally obligated to try to save you, but that doesn’t mean I  _ want _ to.” 

Steve nods smoothly, biting back an amused smile. 

“Gross. I don’t want him touching me, let alone his mouth on mine. I’d rather  _ die _ .”

He can hear Dustin complaining as he walks away. Billy bites back the urge to say,  _ “I rather lose my job than give you CPR.”  _

Billy spends the next thirty minutes on his chair, glaring at the group from behind his sunglasses. They’re playing volleyball with some other kids, and Steve keeps making these over the top dives for the ball like he’s on the sand. Everyone thinks he’s just  _ hilarious _ . 

So when eleven-thirty rolls around, Billy is more than happy to blow his whistle and yell, “Adult swim! Half hour!” 

He might be a little too pleased with the disgruntled outcry from the kids— _ the party _ as Max and they all refer to themselves—especially. Making sure to whistle one more sharp time, Billy then drops the little plastic device until it hangs against his chest once again. 

“Thanks, Billy,” Mrs. Sanderson gives him a little wave after disrobing from the sarong she’s been using to cover up with. That divorce last winter really did a lot for her chest. 

“Enjoy,” He licks at his bottom lip and gives her a lingering look, watching as she puts a little extra sway in her hips. 

“Jailbait.” Steve coughs, somehow managing to sneak up when Billy wasn’t looking. 

He cuts his eyes over. “My birthday was last month,” he grins around the words, smug and letting Steve imagine whatever his imagination can offer. 

Steve wrinkles up his nose, looking all preppy and disgusted as if he hasn’t ever wanted to hook up with someone older. The guy’s probably just never had the  _ option _ , not like Billy.

“You’re so damaged,” Steve comments blithely, but he holds out a cold can of pop anyway. 

Raising his brows so his sunglasses slip down his nose, Billy looks down at the offered drink. “What.”

Steve sighs, reaching up to balance the can on the faded wood of the chair. “Peace offering or whatever. The vending machine spit out an extra one anyway.”

It’s an Orange Crush which Billy doesn’t really like. He pops the top one handed though and guzzles down half of the can in one go, chugging it and letting a little dribble down the side of his chin. It’s sticky cold, a little cloying as he swallows it down. When he hears Steve scoff, Billy lowers the pop and grins. “Nice.”

“You’re gross, and I am regretting everything now.” Steve snorts though, like maybe he’s not so stuck up that he isn’t a little amused. The shout Dustin makes to get his attention, accompanied with waving arms and all, is given a groan. “Also I was hoping you have your iPhone charger and I could borrow it?” 

Like, they aren’t mortal enemies or anything. Billy even kind of thought about being  _ friends _ with Steve back when he first moved into town. Except Steve hadn’t given a single fuck about what Billy wanted, had just looked  _ right through _ him like Billy was nothing more than a mild inconvenience. No fucking way would that work. 

“Employees aren’t allowed to have their phones with them,” He hooks a knee over the other armrest and slouches back, legs spread to show just how little interest he has in helping Steve. 

“You’re a walking rule book these days, huh? Never thought I’d see the day that  _ Billy Hargrove _ gave a fuck what the Man said.” He squints up at Billy because the sun is high and the idiot left his sunglasses on the little table by his chair. 

“Well, we all aren’t blessed with Daddies that shit gold bricks,” He replies. “Could be I don’t want to let you borrow my charger too though. I mean, imagine that. Someone not giving King Steve what he wants, right?” 

“God, you’re really a dick. Fine. Whatever. Enjoy the pop.” Steve turns to stalk back over to his friends. 

His trunks are all jacked up in the back from getting wet. Like, the hem of one side is stuck to his skin,  _ just below _ the curve of his little bubble butt. He’s got a tan line coming in. 

Billy finishes off the can of pop then crushes the aluminum. During his next break, he grabs his charger out of his locker and drops it on Steve’s towel while the other boy is in the pool. 

* * *

He doesn’t  _ follow _ Steve Harrington, but sometimes he checks out what the asshole is up to. Thumbing open his Instagram app and flipping to the search bar is quick work. He taps at the “S” button. Steve’s account is the first one that pops up. 

Which, Billy knows that already know what the other boy was up to today. The party had stayed at the pool all fucking day. He’d watched Mike get progressively pink across the shoulders, ignoring Steve’s motherly insistence that he put on some goddamn sunscreen. 

He’s sitting on his open window ledge as he smokes, oscillating fan pointed at him to blow the smell out of his room. It’s late, and he’s bored. So why not click on the name though, still thumbs up the screen until he sees the last nine posts. 

There’s only one new one, and it’s a selfie taken in his bedroom mirror. The lighting is for shit, because the guy clearly doesn’t know how to take a  _ good _ photo, but he’s dressed for the pool and in those same tiny little pastel shorts. Even in the shadow, the happy trail leading from Steve’s belly button to his pubic hair is obvious. His sunglasses are pushed up, soft hair framing his temples artfully. 

Okay, so maybe it’s not a terrible selfie, even if it isn’t as clear as Billy would have picked for himself. 

Billy shifts in his spot. He stares at the photo long enough that the cherry of his cigarette burns down. He has to stab it out and drop it into the bottle he keeps on the floor next to his desk. The screen of his phone goes black, and he decides that maybe he should go to bed. 

* * *

“I’ll be back at nine,” Billy says sharply when Max unbuckles her seatbelt. “If you’re not out here, I’m leaving your ass.” 

Max gives him a dark look. “ _ Fine _ . I’ll just get Steve to drive me home.” 

That defiant look in her eye makes Billy’s knuckles tighten on the steering wheel. That look would and tone would have gotten him a swift smack to the mouth from Neil. She’s lucky his dad doesn’t believe in hitting girls. Jealousy and relief swirl through him at the knowledge that she won’t know how that feels. 

Max thinks her life is hard because Billy is hard on her, but she doesn’t  _ know _ . 

His mouth pinches as he says, “Yeah, get Steve to drive you home and see what happens.” 

It’ll be Billy’s hide on the line. And he’s not letting that shit happen if he can help it. 

Movement on the lawn behind Max’s red hair catches Billy’s attention. He sighs, slumping back in his seat when he realizes who is approaching the door. 

Steve leans down and opens Max’s door. He hunches to look in at the two of them. “Everything cool?” 

Max bounces up from her seat, slinging her backpack over a shoulder. “Yep!” 

Billy and Steve both watch her run up the lawn to the house before Steve is looking back down at Billy. He hesitates before dropping into the newly empty seat. 

“Don’t you have a tea party to host?” Billy asks. He lights up a cigarette just to have something to do with his fingers while Steve surveys the interior of the camaro. 

Stretching out his legs, Steve raises up to pull something from his pocket. When he reveals his palm, a wad of white cord is sitting there. “This yours?”

Billy side eyes the charger, thinking about denying it even though that would be dumb. He takes the cord from Steve and drops it into the center console.

He says, “You’re welcome.”

Steve chuckles once, privately, and Billy wonders if he’s laughing at  _ him _ . 

“You know, I think we would have gotten along,” Steve admits. He picks up Billy’s zippo lighter and flicks it open, closed, open, closed in quick succession. “If you guys had moved here a year sooner.” 

Billy looks over at Steve. “Alright.” Because what the fuck is he supposed to do with that information? Not like he can go back in time and change anything. 

Steve snaps the lighter closed again, bumping it against his bare knee where his shorts have ridden up. The sun catches on the fine hair covering Steve’s leg. 

Billy looks away. 

With a shrug, Steve says, “Just weird, ya know? Like, you hate me, but I used to be like you. I don’t even hate you.” 

When Billy looks back up sharply, thinking,  _ you were never like me _ , Steve is looking out the window away from him. The back of Steve’s neck is red. 

He continues, “I never really hated you I just had, like, a whole shit load of real shit going on.” He looks back at Billy. “Sorry.” 

Billy wants an elaboration on that apology. By all accounts if anyone is supposed to be apologizing, it’s probably Billy. Not that he’s falling over himself to actually do that. 

Except, Billy’s looking at Steve now, looking at the sheepish expression on his stupid face, and saying, “I could have made it easier, probably.”

Steve lets out a little noise and he  _ smiles _ . It’s not his make-you smile or his bitch smile. It’s one Billy’s never actually seen directed at himself, and he has to look away just then. He flicks his cigarette butt out the window into the faded pavement of the road. 

“Wow,” Steve says, amused. “An almost-apology.” 

Steve sounds like he’s just teasing, but Billy feels the sharp under edges of the words anyway. He clenches his jaw. 

“H-hey. Hey?” Steve gives Billy a confused look and tilts his head. “We’re cool, right? I mean, it’s summer. I’m not even...” he sits back in his seat and sighs. “I’m not even in school anymore. Wow. That’s still not weird to think about.” He rolls his head to look at Billy. 

Billy stares at him through narrowed eyes as he decides if he should believe Steve or not. He wants to. But. He fiddles with the keys hanging from the ring connected to his ignition, toying with starting the car back up and kicking Steve out. 

Before he can talk himself out of it, Billy’s leaning across the console and brushing his lips across Steve’s. It’s a short, light thing before he sucks in a breath and kisses Steve with more force.

Steve startles against him. His hands come up and hover next to their faces like he isn’t sure what to do with them. But he doesn’t shove Billy away and call him names. Steve’s mouth tastes slightly sweet, warm and enticing enough to make all of Billy’s hidden desires flare up. 

He pulls back quickly. When had his hand reached up to brace against Steve’s headrest? Steve’s hair is soft where a few strands ghost across the back of Billy’s fingers. He snatches his hand away and leans all the way back into his chair. 

“Oh.” Steve says. His already wide eyed are larger as he blinks at Billy. His tongue swipes out along his bottom lip. 

Billy clears his throat and starts the engine back up. “Yeah, I gotta go. Nice talk, Harrington.” 

He doesn’t look at Steve, just presses his foot against the floorboard and waits for Steve to finally climb out of the car. 

All he can hear is Steve saying  _ “Oh,”  _ in a loop with every kind of inflection imaginable, like Steve has just figured out every little thing out about Billy. He hates it.

Steve pauses when he’s standing outside the car with his hand holding the door open. “See you later. Alright?” 

Billy can’t look at him. He lifts his chin, then dips it down to his chest. “See ya around.” 

The door is loud when it closes. 

**Author's Note:**

> I’m the-redcrate on tumblr.


End file.
